


wake up alarm

by Womble1



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Lack of Sleep, alarms, conference centres, hotel stays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:19:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Womble1/pseuds/Womble1
Summary: VIrgil gets a rude awakening
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	wake up alarm

The rescue alarm cut through the dark room like an audible knife. It didn't matter how many times he heard it, it still managed to kick start his body like being hit by a freight train. Instinct cut in, arms and lets moving before the brain had even thought about rebooting. Sweatpants were dragged onto hopping legs on the way out the door, a t-shirt clutched in one hand. 

MOVE MOVE MOVE his brain supplied and then stopped abruptly as the door swung shut behind him.

Oh, this was not the island. The rebooting brain filled in the blanks, throwing them all at Virgil's frontal lobe leaving him to make sense of it all. Flash backs were really the only option

Earlier that evening:

Virgil had meant to arrive at the conference centre earlier in the day in a civilised manner, but a last miniature rescue had him being dropped off on the way back and Gordon getting to fly Thunderbird 2 home. It was lucky he had thought to throw his overnight bag in at the last minute, because he would have been even later if he’d gone via the island and standard private jet. The hotel was quiet when he checked in and he was exhausted enough to just crash in bed in an attempt to sleep off some of the aches before the mornings talks and seminars. But he did have enough forethought to put an alarm on his phone, he had been looking forward to this conference for weeks, a chance to hear about new engineering principles and ideas first hand, and he intended to make it to as many of the events as possible. 

What he had forgotten to consider was the fact that his brother was an absolute GIT. unbeknownst to him, Gordon had been messing about with Virgil's phone whilst he had been cleaning off the worst of the grime from the rescue in Thunderbird 2’s tiny bathroom. Everyone thought that John was the only technical wizard in the family, but Gordon had a few tricks of his own up his neoprene sleeves. A little tinkering was all it took to amend Virgil's alarm settings ever so slightly, turning the volume up and uploading a new alarm tone. 

Never the quickest when woken, Virgil had finally managed to piece together the information he had, he was at a hotel, not Tracy Island, therefore there was no rescue to rush to. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline down enough to work the rest out. Now what? Well obviously revenge against the little brat would need to be on the list, but there were a few other things to sort out before that. Virgil looked down at his hands, the tshirt he thought he had grabbed turned out to be a pair of boxers, and therefore no use for making himself a little more respectable. Also his jogging bottoms pockets didn't contain his room key, two negatives for his current situation. So on reflection he was locked out of his hotel room in the early hours, fairly addled from having crossed a couple of time zones over the previous day, wearing gym kit and clutching a spare pair of underwear like a toddler with a comforter (thank god they were clean). Yes, revenge would have to wait for now. He nervously looked up and down the corridor, he was relieved there was nobody, but at the same time that meant there wasn't a handy cleaner with a universal key who could let him back in his room. Brain finally back onboard and willing to input into the general narrative once more, he realised he was going to have to head to the main reception and talk his way out of this. It was at times like this he wished he had a little more of Scotts gift of the gab, or Gordons outright confidence. He padded his way barefoot down the corridors, trying to remember how far his room was from the main reception, it felt a lot longer with no shirt or shoes. He stuffed the boxers in his pocket and wrapped his arms across himself, feeling more self conscious the further he went.

The night receptionist had been having a fairly run of the mill kind of night, dealing with travel weary late arrivals and fielding a few random room service requests, nothing of note. That was until she looked up and spotted the half dressed man coming towards her looking cold and slightly terrified. This was bound to have a good story, she started drafting the opening of the tale in her head, working out exactly how she would tell the morning shift about this one. He strung her a bland tale about sleep walking, but even he didn't seem that convinced by it. However, he was able to answer all the security questions to confirm his booking so she sorted out a new room card and went back to mentally elaborating on his story to make it a little more dramatic for the breakfast team. She watched him tiptoe his way across the cold marble of the lobby floor, clearly cold on his bare feet. She frowned, was that a pair of boxers hanging out of his pocket? There had to be a way to add that into the story somehow.

Once Virgil got back to his room he was far too frazzled by the whole experience to get back to sleep right away. Besides he had some plotting to do. He pulled out his tablet from his bag and started proving that John wasn't the only one who could remote access things. 20 minutes later and Virgil was happy with his work and he settled down to get a few more hours napping under his belt.

A few hours later on Tracy Island and Gordon was trying to work out why “Its A Small World After All” started playing at full volume each time he so much as dipped a toe into the pool.


End file.
